


i could trip a referee

by mockturtletale



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Injury, Other, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-26
Updated: 2012-05-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 07:48:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1850128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mockturtletale/pseuds/mockturtletale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Game injuries suck hardcore, Taylor thinks. Like obviously you can’t play and having to watch your team out there without you from up in the press box is the worst kind of torture, win or lose. </p>
<p>But a whole ‘nother traumatic aspect of it that Taylor really hasn’t had to deal with before is the effect injuries ultimately have on your sex life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i could trip a referee

**Author's Note:**

> {Written in a world in which Ryan hadn’t broken our hearts and his own shoulder by the time Ebs suffered his knee injury}

Game injuries suck hardcore, Taylor thinks. Like obviously you can’t play and having to watch your team out there without you from up in the press box is the worst kind of torture, win or lose. But a whole ‘nother traumatic aspect of it that Taylor really hasn’t had to deal with before is the effect injuries ultimately have on your sex life. That’s especially lame when you’re not even the one injured. Thankfully there’s nothing serious wrong with Jordan’s knee and he’s only set to miss a couple of weeks, but he’d also been prescribed a lot of serious rest for that first week at least, and as far as the bedroom is concerned Taylor might as well be on IR too.

You would think that having two boyfriends kind of ensures that it’s never too big a problem for too long, but Ryan is oddly, perfectly strange about fucking around without Jordan, even though Jordan has explicitly given them permission to do whatever. Like - _really_ explicitly.

“Ryan, I am totally fine with Hallsy fucking you. Like, I’m in favor of it. I fully support it. Encourage, even. Don’t you miss it? I do.”

Ryan had blushed, but shook his head decisively after throwing Taylor an apologetic look and getting a raised eyebrow and pout in return.

“It’s not like I don’t miss it, because clearly. But you’re injured. We have to be careful.”

He wouldn’t even entertain the notion of doing anything without Jordan, so by this point they’d been on day six of careful handjobs and Ryan and Taylor working together to blow Jordan, one of them holding his hips firmly in place so he couldn’t move much at all. At first it had been super hot, holding Ebs down like that, watching him lose it for them, totally dependent on them giving him what he needed because he couldn’t take it for himself. But after nearly a week it was starting to get old fast and Taylor wanted to fuck someone. He didn’t feel like that was too much to ask.

Jordan had tugged at Ryan’s shirt until he was leaning in over Jordan, one hand braced on the couch behind Jordan’s head so he didn’t fall forward onto him. Then he’d sucked teasingly at Ryan’s lower lip and said;

“Think about it, though. Taylor’s hands. His fingers getting you ready just for him. We always trade off on prepping you and fucking you because we don’t want to be greedy with you, but Taylor would get to be, now. And he’d love that, Ryan. He’d do anything to get to trap your wrists back against the sheets and just watch how you move under him, how you’d arch and strain for him. You don’t think that’s the hottest thing he could ever imagine? You’d be wrong, Ryan. He wants that so bad, look at him.”

And Jordan apparently knows Taylor better than Taylor knows himself, because that had been the truest truth he’d never really thought to think about before. Jordan has the best imagination, here, that’s no secret to anyone.

Ryan had looked to Taylor then, and whatever he saw on Taylor’s face had made him groan and close his eyes. It kind of looked like he’d been counting to ten in his head.

“I’m trying to be nice, here. I’m trying to be fair. Why do you two have to make it so hard for me to do the right thing!”

And now Ryan wasn’t playing fair, because he _knew_ how much Taylor loved it when he whined about how they were well and truly on their way to having completely corrupted him. He always sounded so genuinely pained by it, and Taylor was a horrible person, because that really did it for him. He loved how hard Ryan fought to make sure everyone was happy, and he really loved the way the easier they were for Ryan, the more he’d protest until eventually he’d give in and take what was offered and be so fucking shameless about how much he’d really wanted just this all along that Taylor sometimes thought that he was going to come from watching Ryan give in and fall apart.

Jordan had winked at Taylor and leaned up to kiss Ryan until Ryan stopped frowning and kissed him back.

“The right thing is for everyone to get what they want, though, right? Taylor wants to fuck you. I want that too. So unless you don’t ….”

Ryan had bitten his lip and looked at Taylor and then back at Jordan and Taylor would have been totally offended except for how -

“But what if I want you there?” Ryan had said to Jordan, and okay. Taylor’s pretty sure he and Jordan were both thinking about a scenario in which he and Ryan put those long boring hours after practice and before afternoon naps when Jordan had to stay back and do careful one on one workouts with the trainers to better use, but now that Ryan mentions it, _that_ would also work. Taylor had grinned, and maybe gotten a little hard, because his boyfriends were geniuses - really hot, kind of accidentally kinky geniuses - and he reaped more or less all the rewards of that.

“We could totally make that happen,” Jordan had said, and so that was how they’d found themselves here the next day, with a day off after beating the Kings and the perfect excuse for Ryan and Taylor to work off a little of that residual adrenaline.

Ryan insists they do this in Jordan’s room, because he’s weird about some stuff, but it makes Jordan get a little flushed and a lot bashful and those are two of Taylor’s favorite looks on him, so.

Jordan hobbles over to the bed and sits up against the headboard on the far side. Ryan and Taylor follow and strip and hover at the end of the bed in their boxers and it’s kind of weird and tense until Jordan folds his hands behind his head and grins at them both and says “So have sex for my viewing pleasure, now, please.” That makes Ryan laugh and climb up onto the bed to very gently hit Jordan with a pillow, and then it’s easy for Taylor to catch Ryan with a hand around his ankle and pull him down and get him underneath him in the middle of the bed.

Ryan goes easily and reaches for Taylor the second he does, folding his arms up around Taylor’s neck and pulling him down. Ryan kisses differently than Jordan does, a little more carefully and not enough tongue for Taylor’s liking, at least not until Taylor coaxes him into it, gets him relaxed and comfortable and lost in responding to whatever Taylor does until he doesn’t even notice that he’s gotten just as aggressive about it as Taylor wants him to be, sucking on Taylor’s tongue and being completely messy and unapologetic about it. It’s so familiar now, so easy to get lost in just making out with Ryan and letting his hands wander up and down the line of Ryan’s waist, tracing the ripples of Ryan’s shivers with the pads of his thumbs, that Taylor nearly forgets about the plan.

Luckily Jordan is on hand to keep them focused.

He leans down and twists a hand in Taylor’s hair and tugs until Taylor reluctantly pulls away from Ryan.

“Today is not the day to just kiss him until he comes, Taylor,” Jordan admonishes, because that’s sometimes a thing they do, and Taylor loves that they have an 18 year old boyfriend who is that into them, he really really does. Nobody can blame Taylor for wanting to make out with him for days.

Especially not when Ryan is looking dazedly up at Taylor, his mouth flushed and full and wet and shining and his hips shifting restlessly under Taylor’s, already a little desperate for some friction.

Taylor tries to duck back down but Jordan pulls his hair hard enough to really hurt this time and ‘ah-ah’s at him. Ryan was really on to something with this arrangement. Knowing that Jordan’s only going to let him do to Ryan what _Jordan_ wants is stupid, unholy levels of hot. Taylor and Ryan are both hard enough against each other already that they’re not going to make it through foreplay, and Taylor is really fucking thankful for that, because the kind of want burning through him right now is one that’s been building for way too long now, and he needs to be inside Ryan like a week ago.

Jordan pulls at his hair again, a gentler double tug that Taylor interprets to mean he needs to get off of Ryan so they can get naked, and he does just that, as unhappy about moving away from Jordan’s touch as he is about having to let Ryan out from underneath him. But in reward he gets Ryan pulling him back down again, arching up to get their cocks sliding hot and slick against one another between their stomachs, and Jordan touching Ryan this time, pushing his index finger between Ryan’s lips and tracing the ridges of Ryan’s teeth till Ryan nips at his finger impatiently and sucks it right into his mouth so he can curl his tongue around it instead.

Jordan swallows and his jaw tenses for a second before he says to Taylor - trying to sound bored and failing completely - “You know, if it were me, I’d be getting him ready for my dick already”, and tosses him the lube. It’s a miracle that Taylor manages to catch it when he’s still dealing with that audio and visual and the one before him, Ryan licking along the web of skin between Jordan’s thumb and index finger now, and looking up at Taylor like he’s wondering what the hell he’s waiting for. Taylor’s hands at Ryan’s waist clench helplessly at that look, and when he starts to run his palms down under Ryan’s ass Ryan cants his hips, just tilts them right up into Taylor’s hold. Jordan is right about everything ever.

Let it never be said he isn’t also helpful and considerate, because he reaches for a pillow to push in under Ryan’s hips when Taylor gets to his knees and lifts them up off the bed, and puts the cap back on the lube when Taylor is done with it, smiling at Taylor when he grins at him in gratitude.

Taylor feels a little bad for Jordan when he works up to having three fingers inside Ryan, when he thinks about how Taylor gets to fuck him right now and Jordan has to wait, has to watch Taylor do it. But a quick glance reveals that maybe just watching is something Jordan is really pretty into. He’s clearly hard, his sweatpants doing nothing to conceal that fact, and Taylor wants to reach to pull them down, wants to see exactly how hard Jordan is for what he’s doing to Ryan. But Jordan slaps his hand away and doesn’t do anything other than palm himself a little through his clothes, not even when Taylor says ‘please’.

Taylor is about to protest but Ryan interrupts him.

“You know he gets off on waiting, come on,” he says, and Taylor doesn’t know if that’s a scolding or encouragement, but he takes it as the latter and gets Ryan’s ass snug in the cradle of his hips, his knees spread apart up around Taylor’s ribs. It’s definitely been way too long, but Taylor takes a minute to revel in the anticipation anyway. Ryan is restless and impatient, the muscles in his legs jumping under Taylor’s hands when he runs them from Ryan’s knees down along the insides of his thighs, curling his fingers in against the hollow under Ryan’s sartorius muscle, digging his fingertips into the pale skin there, pressing on the fading bruises that Jordan takes such care in sucking inside Ryan’s thighs where no-one but them will ever see.

“Yeah, come on Hallsy,” Jordan says, breathless and doing nothing to hide it. He’s got a hand in his sweats now, jerking himself off way too slowly judging by the movements of his wrist. He’s got his head tilted a little to one side, his bottom lip pulled in between his teeth and he’s watching them with such concentrated focus, such sharp appreciation. Taylor can’t bear how good he looks, how stupidly hot his face is when it looks like that because of what they’re doing, the way his left hand is clenching and unclenching around a fistful of sheets. Taylor can’t deal with any of that, and he can’t do anything but take it out on Ryan.

Taylor leans up over Ryan as he pushes in, guides himself inside Ryan with one steadying hand, and then stays like that, as deep as he can get, one hand tight around Ryan’s hip holding him still, holding him down against Taylor exactly where he wants him.

“Wrists, Taylor,” Jordan reminds him, his arm working a little faster now, white indents from his teeth clear beneath his lip.

Ryan’s wrists are practically fucking delicate compared to his and Jordan’s. Taylor gets them both in one of his hands and holds them down against the mattress just above Ryan’s head. Ryan doesn’t fight the hold at all, just tips his head back and lets his hips rise up off the bed to meet Taylor’s thrusts every time he pushes all the way back in. Taylor watches the line of Ryan’s throat work as he swallows down moans, and then looks over at how Jordan is jerking off almost fast enough to actually get him off now, pausing on the upstroke to pay extra attention to the head of his cock like Taylor knows he does when he’s nearly ready to come and trying to draw it out.

But he stops when he catches Taylor’s eye. He pushes his wrist further inside his sweats and Taylor can almost see him cupping his balls, squeezing them in the palm of his hand and letting his index finger stray back to stroke up against the skin behind them.

“Ryan, let Taylor hear you,” Jordan says, still not looking away from Taylor, and Taylor can’t help it, his rhythm is totally wrecked by that and his hips stutter up against Ryan’s ass, not even pulling halfway out before he’s pushing back into him hard enough to jolt Ryan up along the sheets where he’s caught between Taylor’s cock and his hand around Ryan’s wrists. Ryan groans long and low when he does, though. His mouth falls open around the sound and his fingers fold into fists above his head.

“C’mon, Taylor, more,” he gasps, twisting his wrists in Taylor’s grip because he knows what that’ll get him - Taylor’s hand tightening hard enough to bruise and Taylor leaning right down to lick at his mouth, dragging his tongue teasingly across his lip without ever dipping it inside.

“More what, Ryan?” Taylor prompts.

Ryan shakes his head against the sheets, and Taylor has to grit his teeth. Ryan’s stupidly great hair never looks as good as it does now, bangs falling damp across his forehead and the rest tousled and messy like Taylor has had his hands fisted in it already today. He’s flushed across his cheekbones and down the line of his throat to the dip between his collarbones, shining with sweat.

“Harder,” Ryan says, genuinely trying to fight Taylor’s hold now, struggling to pull his hands free and succeeding only in making his biceps flex and strain.

Taylor stops moving altogether, pulls almost all the way out and leans away from Ryan, their only other point of contact the bruising hold he has on Ryan’s wrists.

“Hmmm?” he says, “what was that?”

Jordan laughs and reaches out, smooths Ryan’s hair back from his face with his left hand, and taps Ryan not completely gently on the jaw.

“Answer him,” Jordan instructs, not a suggestion at all, and Ryan pushes his face up into the curve of Jordan’s hand for a second before he pulls away and looks back up at Taylor.

“Harder, please. Fuck me harder,” he says, voice firm and sure like it only gets when they’re alone together like this.

Jordan groans at that, spreads his legs a little wider and finally, finally pulls his sweatpants down low enough to free his cock. It’s about as hard as Taylor has ever seen it, flushed full and leaking. Taylor’s mouth kind of waters for a second before Ryan clenches down around him, and fuck. Taylor forgets all about rhythm or finesse or any purpose here that doesn’t revolve entirely around fucking Ryan about as hard as he physically can, letting go of his wrists so he can hold Ryan’s hips in his hands and push up into his own hold. Ryan grabs a hold of the pillow above his head and keeps his arms stretched out like that, and Taylor has never known anything like the sight of Ryan stretched out underneath him like this, all taut and straining muscle highlighted in places with a sheen of sweat, his mouth and throat working around the noises Taylor pulls out of him and his forehead creased with how into this he is, his eyes screwed shut for how badly he wants it.

Taylor digs his fingers in against the knots of muscle above Ryan’s hips and Ryan swears and looks up at Taylor and his eyes go wide and his mouth falls slack and he’s coming between them, his cock untouched and jerking against his belly.

Jordan echoes the sentiment and spills across his own wrist in thick ropes that Taylor has every intention of licking off in just a minute, but first he concentrates on the feeling of Ryan going completely tense and then boneless beneath him. It doesn’t take more than that and one look at Ryan’s lazy, satiated grin to make Taylor come, but he keeps moving into Ryan through it, pushing into the wet heat of his own come slick inside Ryan till it gets to be too much.

He pulls out carefully and falls onto his back between Ryan and Jordan, the three of them touching and breathing heavy, Jordan and Ryan laughing between hitched breaths and Taylor half-heartedly debating falling asleep here and now.

But the sheets are gross and they’ll feel like crap if they nap like this, so he sits up and pokes Ryan gently in the shoulder.

“Your turn for laundry duty, Nuge, I’ll help Jordan get cleaned up,” he says, knowing Ryan will think him a kind-hearted boyfriend for that effort, counting on him being this easy to play.

And he is. He strips the sheets off the bed quickly and efficiently and he’s careful to let Jordan settle back onto the bare mattress, even fetching him a washcloth from the en suite and tossing it to him as he leaves the room.

When he comes back a few minutes later the cloth is on the floor and Taylor has Jordan spread out on top of him, his wrists licked clean and Jordan chasing the taste of his come from Taylor’s mouth.

“You’re both jerks,” Ryan says, but he doesn’t sound all that mad so Taylor counts it as a win and holds a hand out to drag Ryan back down onto the bed with them, tugging him into a one-armed hug and kissing him all over his face like he fucking hates.

“But you love us, right?” Jordan asks, propped up over Taylor on one elbow and watching them fondly.

Ryan finally breaks free of Taylor’s hold and scrunches his face up, pretends to think about it.

“Eh, I guess,” he says, and manages to keep a straight face for about three seconds before his grin breaks out.

“You guess right, rookie,” Taylor says, and loops an around around each of them.

They lie together in comfortable silence for a moment, till Taylor breaks it.

“So how long until we can do this again except with me and Jordan switching places?”

Ryan groans and buries his face in a pillow.

But that’s okay, because Taylor can see Jordan already doing the math in his head.

**Author's Note:**

> Not true / not profiting.


End file.
